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1"Go away, Harry," cried the lad. "I want to be alone. Basil, you must go. Ah! can't you see that my heart is breaking?"
2The hot tears came to his eyes. His lips trembled, and rushing to the back of the box, he leaned up against the wall,
3hiding his face in his hands. "Let us go, Basil," said Lord Henry with a strange tenderness in his voice, and the two
4young men passed out together. A few moments afterwards the footlights flared up and the curtain rose on the third act.
5Dorian Gray went back to his seat. He looked pale, and proud, and indifferent. The play dragged on, and seemed
6interminable. Half of the audience went out, tramping in heavy boots and laughing. The whole thing was a fiasco. The
7last act was played to almost empty benches. The curtain went down on a titter and some groans. As soon as it was over,
8Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into the greenroom. The girl was standing there alone, with a look of triumph on
9her face. Her eyes were lit with an exquisite fire. There was a radiance about her. Her parted lips were smiling over
10some secret of their own. When he entered, she looked at him, and an expression of infinite joy came over her. "How
11badly I acted to-night, Dorian!" she cried. "Horribly!" he answered, gazing at her in amazement. "Horribly! It was
12dreadful. Are you ill? You have no idea what it was. You have no idea what I suffered." The girl smiled. "Dorian," she
13answered, lingering over his name with long-drawn music in her voice, as though it were sweeter than honey to the red
14petals of her mouth. "Dorian, you should have understood. But you understand now, don't you?" "Understand what?" he
15asked, angrily. "Why I was so bad to-night. Why I shall always be bad. Why I shall never act well again." He shrugged
16his shoulders. "You are ill, I suppose. When you are ill you shouldn't act. You make yourself ridiculous. My friends
17were bored. I was bored." She seemed not to listen to him. She was transfigured with joy. An ecstasy of happiness
18dominated her. "Dorian, Dorian," she cried, "before I knew you, acting was the one reality of my life. It was only in
19the theatre that I lived. I thought that it was all true. I was Rosalind one night and Portia the other. The joy of
20Beatrice was my joy, and the sorrows of Cordelia were mine also. I believed in everything. The common people who acted
21with me seemed to me to be godlike. The painted scenes were my world. I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them
22real. You came--oh, my beautiful love!--and you freed my soul from prison. You taught me what reality really is.
23To-night, for the first time in my life, I saw through the hollowness, the sham, the silliness of the empty pageant in
24which I had always played. To-night, for the first time, I became conscious that the Romeo was hideous, and old, and
25painted, that the moonlight in the orchard was false, that the scenery was vulgar, and that the words I had to speak
26were unreal, were not my words, were not what I wanted to say. You had brought me something higher, something of which
27all art is but a reflection. You had made me understand what love really is. My love! My love! Prince Charming! Prince
28of life! I have grown sick of shadows. You are more to me than all art can ever be. What have I to do with the puppets
29of a play? When I came on to-night, I could not understand how it was that everything had gone from me. I thought that I
30was going to be wonderful. I found that I could do nothing. Suddenly it dawned on my soul what it all meant. The
31knowledge was exquisite to me. I heard them hissing, and I smiled. What could they know of love such as ours? Take me
32away, Dorian--take me away with you, where we can be quite alone. I hate the stage. I might mimic a passion that I do
33not feel, but I cannot mimic one that burns me like fire. Oh, Dorian, Dorian, you understand now what it signifies? Even
34if I could do it, it would be profanation for me to play at being in love. You have made me see that." He flung himself
35down on the sofa and turned away his face. "You have killed my love," he muttered. She looked at him in wonder and
36laughed. He made no answer. She came across to him, and with her little fingers stroked his hair. She knelt down and
37pressed his hands to her lips. He drew them away, and a shudder ran through him. Then he leaped up and went to the door.
38"Yes," he cried, "you have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don't even stir my curiosity. You
39simply produce no effect. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect, because you
40realized the dreams of great poets and gave shape and substance to the shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You
41are shallow and stupid. My God! how mad I was to love you! What a fool I have been! You are nothing to me now. I will
42never see you again. I will never think of you. I will never mention your name. You don't know what you were to me,
43once. Why, once ... Oh, I can't bear to think of it! I wish I had never laid eyes upon you! You have spoiled the romance
44of my life. How little you can know of love, if you say it mars your art! Without your art, you are nothing. I would
45have made you famous, splendid, magnificent. The world would have worshipped you, and you would have borne my name. What
46are you now? A third-rate actress with a pretty face." The girl grew white, and trembled. She clenched her hands
47together, and her voice seemed to catch in her throat. "You are not serious, Dorian?" she murmured. "You are acting."
48"Acting! I leave that to you. You do it so well," he answered bitterly. She rose from her knees and, with a piteous
49expression of pain in her face, came across the room to him. She put her hand upon his arm and looked into his eyes. He
50thrust her back. "Don't touch me!" he cried. A low moan broke from her, and she flung herself at his feet and lay there
51like a trampled flower. "Dorian, Dorian, don't leave me!" she whispered. "I am so sorry I didn't act well. I was
52thinking of you all the time. But I will try--indeed, I will try. It came so suddenly across me, my love for you. I
53think I should never have known it if you had not kissed me--if we had not kissed each other. Kiss me again, my love.
54Don't go away from me. I couldn't bear it. Oh! don't go away from me. My brother ... No; never mind. He didn't mean it.
55He was in jest.... But you, oh! can't you forgive me for to-night? I will work so hard and try to improve. Don't be
56cruel to me, because I love you better than anything in the world. After all, it is only once that I have not pleased
57you. But you are quite right, Dorian. I should have shown myself more of an artist. It was foolish of me, and yet I
58couldn't help it. Oh, don't leave me, don't leave me." A fit of passionate sobbing choked her. She crouched on the floor
59like a wounded thing, and Dorian Gray, with his beautiful eyes, looked down at her, and his chiselled lips curled in
60exquisite disdain. There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love. Sibyl
61Vane seemed to him to be absurdly melodramatic. Her tears and sobs annoyed him. "I am going," he said at last in his
62calm clear voice. "I don't wish to be unkind, but I can't see you again. You have disappointed me." She wept silently,
63and made no answer, but crept nearer. Her little hands stretched blindly out, and appeared to be seeking for him. He
64turned on his heel and left the room. In a few moments he was out of the theatre. Where he went to he hardly knew. He
65remembered wandering through dimly lit streets, past gaunt, black-shadowed archways and evil-looking houses. Women with
66hoarse voices and harsh laughter had called after him. Drunkards had reeled by, cursing and chattering to themselves
67like monstrous apes. He had seen grotesque children huddled upon door-steps, and heard shrieks and oaths from gloomy
68courts.
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